It started with a meeting. Then a line on a map. Finally a photo. We were supposed to be talking about the weekend's
Superenduro race, but Enrico pulled out the trail map for the area around Madesimo. While we should have been looking at the layout of the stages, working out how we'd cover the event, the little red lines cutting through the high mountains pulled our attention away. "Oh they're the old smuggler's routes, they're too dangerous to ride, look here's a photo." Alessandra backed this up by flashing a photo of a mule track carved into the side of a huge cliff. The plan was probably to put us off, but it was clear there was plenty of room to get a bike or three down the rocky trail. As head of the local tourist office she was trying to get Enrico focused back on his race series that was currently taking over her town and the idiot-English journalist wasn't helping, but by now it was no good. After a few minutes of prodding the map and working out altitudes it was clear we could easily ride it in a day and staying in town another day after the race would be easy enough. Eventually Alessandra offered to shuttle us, probably more in hope of shutting us up and getting us back to the business at hand than enthusiasm about encouraging people to ride their bikes down the Splugen Pass.
As far as trails go, the Splugen Pass is one of the older ones. It is first recorded as being used somewhere around the time that the Romans were busy nailing Jesus to a cross. By the Nineteenth Century it was an artery between Munich and Milan and as many as 2,000 mules per month were braving the high mountains and gorges to transport people, goods and ideas. Locally it is more famous for the bandits who used it regularly - the wild, high mountains made for safe passage across the border, far from the eyes of the authorities. Today it is overshadowed by the tunnel and wide, sweeping roads of the San Bernadino pass, but the original trail still remains and we headed up to retrace the steps of those smugglers...
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 We held Alessandra to her promise and as Monday morning dawned we jammed our bikes into the back of her pickup. |
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| Climbing up from Madesimo, the trailhead is at 2110m, some 600m above the town and sitting right on the Swiss border. This is the exact point where the two countries meet. |
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| From the border, the trail begins with flowing singletrack through the meadows. |
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| Soon enough it starts to get rocky. The whole area must once have been some great glacier as the landscape is strewn with giant, jagged rocks, marking the paths of those ancient iceflows. |
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| The pass winds its way through a basin at the head of the valley, an expanse of rocky grassland littered with streams. On it sits one of the old mountain refuges, originally a place for travelers to shelter from the weather as they crossed the border. |
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| As you follow the trail down, you reach Montalto. It has to be one of the most aptly-named places you'll find anywhere. Translated, the name simply means "high mountain." |
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| What better place to stop than at the oldest building in the area? Hotel Vittoria has sat here in the mountains since the Seventeenth Century and was originally just a mountain house. In winter it is still cut off from both Italy and Switzerland when the snow falls. A lazy lunch of venison in a marscapone sauce, washed down by strong espresso in the sunshine isn't a bad way to pass an hour or two... |
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| Unfortunately the original trail along the side of this reservoir is impassable on a mountain bike these days, so a quick trip round the road takes you up to the dam and one of the most beautiful reservoirs you'll see anywhere. A photo can never do some places justice, this is one of them. |
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| Breaking the peaceful silence of the reservoir, this old guy cycled past singing an old, happy Italian pop song. We stopped him to say hello and he began telling us stories of how he had carried a calf on his shoulders up the side of the mountain in the 1970s. He then pulled his bike up at the side of the water and cast into the reservoir to catch his evening meal. |
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| From the reservoir we descended into the Cardinello Gorge. This was the trail from the photo... Hewn from the rock of the mountain many centuries ago, you pick a line along the cliffs high above the river below. There is nothing quite like this kind of wild, backcountry riding. Speed goes out the window as the trail is so unpredictable, but the feeling of picking your way down, trying to work out what the trail will do next, whether you can ride something or if it will send you to your death on the rocks below is something special. You're alive in way you can only be when you know that to make a mistake could take that from you. |
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| Eventually you reach the river below, crossing the wooden bridge you join singletrack that takes you out into the open valley below. |
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| Leaving the gorge, it would be easy to assume that you've left the breathtaking scenery behind you. You'd be wrong about that though. |
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| That singletrack then takes you down the valley to Campodolcino and the cold beer and ice cream waiting for you there... or you can jump on the train back up to Madesimo and smash some bike park laps. |
A big thank you to Alessandra and all the guys at Madebike for their help, without them we'd never have been able to ride this special trail. Of course the smugglers didn't have just one route over the mountains...
www.madebike.it 
